


keep me by your side all night

by Murf1307



Series: Valentine’s Day 2018 Fic Storm #1 — For My Gullfriend [2]
Category: MacGyver (TV 2016)
Genre: Breakfast in Bed, Developing Relationship, Friends to Lovers, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-19
Updated: 2018-02-19
Packaged: 2019-03-21 03:21:53
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,643
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13732065
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Murf1307/pseuds/Murf1307
Summary: Love comes when and where you're not looking for it, but once it comes, you can't ignore it for too long.





	keep me by your side all night

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gullapip](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gullapip/gifts).



> Title is a lyric from the song "Wild West" by Runaway June. This is also the second installment of my Valentine's/5th Anniversary gift ficspam for my partner!

It starts the way a lot of things do, in their line of work: without all that much fanfare, in between dark alleyways and dusty backroads in foreign countries.

Jack does his best not to think too hard about it, because  _ thinking _ has never been his strongest suit, especially when it mixes up the job and his heart like this.  Sarah had been enough of a lesson in that, hadn’t she?

And Mac’s got his own issues, now, given that the last woman who’d loved him was all tangled up in all that intrigue, and too willing to hurt him for the cause.

So, Jack doesn’t push when they don’t talk about it, because, after all —

Why make it worse?

 

* * *

 

“Jack,” Mac breathes against his mouth in a nightclub in Munich, as Jack presses him into the wall.  The fake-out-make-out is a tried and tested tool, and Jack would’ve thought, before all this started, that it would be  _ easier _ , since sometimes they already fooled around and all.

But Mac kisses like he means it no matter if they’re on the job or not, and it’s  _ distracting _ , sometimes.  

Jack runs his hands through Mac’s hair as he hears the metal-studded boots go past them, trying his best to keep on task, even with Mac arching against him — entirely too convincing for it to be anything but real arousal, real lust.

He pulls back.  “Y’alright, darlin’?” he asks.

“Yeah, yeah, I’m good,” Mac says, pushing off the wall.  He’s all mussed up, and there’s a little bit of glassiness left in his eyes.  “They went that way, right?”

“Yeah.”

Mac nods, and they head off in pursuit.

 

* * *

 

Nothing will ever be as heart-stoppingly frightening as this sort of thing:

Those days when Mac decides to throw himself into danger for everyone else’s sake, and isn’t so great at explaining  _ why. _  Talking isn’t always Mac’s strongest suit, after all, and so, shit like this happens all too often.

This time, they’re in Johannesburg, and the weapons traffickers have bombs, and Mac is just good enough to get caught, apparently.

Jack wishes he could know what’s going on in Mac’s head when he goes like this, because there’s always a  _ plan _ , no matter how half-baked, and if Jack could only know it, he could do exactly what Mac needs him to do.

He’s pretty good at figuring that out, now, and this time, all he  _ needs _ to do is what he does best:

At the right moment, he drops in, guns blazing, and draws all the attention from where Mac has escaped his zip ties and has made it to the bombs.

That said, it’s not until they’ve dropped every trafficker in the warehouse, and Mac’s defused the bombs, that Jack starts to relax.

 

* * *

 

The first night Mac stays over, his limbs splayed haphazard in Jack’s sheets, Jack realizes that it can’t go on like this.

Oh, sure, it can, technically speaking.  They can keep pretending that this is just them being friendly, that the quality of their friendship just  _ includes _ this.  They can act like it’s just because they’re  _ friends _ that sometimes, Mac will climb into his lap, or he’ll press Mac into a hotel bed.

But that’s just not true.  Not for Jack, anyway.

It’s been a long time coming, he thinks, watching Mac sleep in the early morning light, but he has to admit it now:

He’s in love.

 

* * *

 

Nevertheless,  _ knowing _ and  _ doing _ are two very different things.

 

* * *

 

Whiskey tastes better, Jack thinks, when he can lick it out of Mac’s mouth.  They’ve spent the week in Omaha, tracking and taking out a white-supremacist terrorist cell, and it’s a little like the old days, really — before Riley and Bozer and Matty, even before Nikki.

The two of them kissed like this, down to the brand of whiskey, in Tennessee that first time, both of them fresh out of the parts of the intelligence community that the U.S. government admits exist.  Just like back then, Jack fits his hands around the juts of Mac’s hips, and just like then, Mac kisses him like a drowning man.  It feels good, feels familiar, alone together the way they used to be.

Tomorrow, they’ll hit the exfil point, and go back to their usual, but for now, the comms are off, the moon is shifting light through the ratty curtains, and Jack would do anything to stretch this moment into the rest of forever.

 

* * *

 

It takes another week, two more missions, and, of course, a stab wound, to jolt Jack into actual action.  

Jack’s the one who gets stabbed, but still.  It’s only because he had to get between Mac and a knife, because there hadn’t been another option.  It’s not a bad wound, really, on the sliding scale, even.

But Mac, Mac seems really shaken up by it.

Mac brings him home, doesn’t let him drive, doesn’t say anything the whole way back from the Foundation.  His eyes stay glued to the road.

It’s so unlike him that Jack doesn’t even try to joke him out of it like he usually would.

They wind up at Jack’s apartment, and finally, as they park, Mac exhales.  “Mind if I go up with you?”

“Course,” Jack says, pretty sure that it’s going to end the way it’s been ending lately: with Mac and him in bed together.  He’ll have to be careful of his shoulder, but it’s not like anybody said he  _ can’t _ do things.

They’re both quiet as they head upstairs.  Once inside, Mac locks the door behind them and pulls Jack into a kiss.

Jack wraps his good arm around him and kisses back.  “Hey, darlin’,” he murmurs.

Mac huffs something that’s almost a laugh.  “Been calling me that a lot, lately.”  He leans his forehead against Jack’s temple.  

“Yeah, well.”  Jack shrugs his good shoulder.  “D’you like it?”

“...Yeah.  Yeah, I do.”

This is more “talking about it” than they’ve ever done before.  Jack decides that’s a good thing — at least, the talking more part.

He kisses the corner of Mac’s mouth.  “I’m gonna be fine.”

“I know.”  Mac exhales.  “I know, I just…”

“Worried, huh?”  He smiles a little.  “Yeah, I know the feeling.”  He shifts, tugging Mac toward the bedroom hallway.

Mac doesn’t seem to notice until they’re in the hall.  “Uh, Jack?”

“Yeah?”

“You...kind of got stabbed, today.”

“Mhm.  And?” Jack has a feeling this is gonna be the now-or-never part.  He goes with ‘now,’ because it’s got to be better than ‘never.’

“Probably shouldn’t have sex with a fresh stab wound.”  Mac shrugs one shoulder.  “Could aggravate it.”

Jack nods.  “I know, darlin’.  If — if you don’t mind too much, I just thought it might be nice to have you stay the night.” He wants Mac here with him, in his bed, in his arms.  He’s not sure he’s quite ready to say he loves him.

But he wants him here, all the same.

Mac’s eyes widen.  “Just, to sleep?”

“Mhm.”  Jack kisses him sweetly, carefully.  “An’ if it goes anywhere tomorrow, we’ll be careful, I know.”

Mac kisses him back, and Jack leads him down the hall.

 

* * *

 

Then next morning, Jack wakes up alone in his bed.  It’s unnerving, for sure, but he can hear Mac in the kitchen, fussing with pots and pans, so he’s not all that worried.

He sits up, careful of his wound, and decides to wait for Mac to come back in.

Mac comes in with a box of cereal and two bowls, and Jack can’t help but laugh a little.  “Breakfast in bed?” He teases.

“Yeah, well.  Turns out you don’t have any eggs, a toaster, or pancake mix, so, I’m pretty much out of ideas.”  He grins a little, and that’s when Jack notices that Mac’s wearing one of his shirts.

Shit, that makes his chest warm, for sure.  He grins back.  “Bullshit.”

“Okay, fine, I just didn’t want to disassemble your record player to make toast.” Mac gets on the bed with him.  “So, Cheerios it is.”

Jack laughs a little more.  “It’s the thought that counts.”

“Of course,” Mac says, and pours them each a bowl of cereal.

“Mhm.”  Jack leans over, just a little, and kisses Mac’s cheek.  “Sleep well, darlin’?”

It’s not nearly as much of a joke, this morning.  It’s just baldly, honestly affectionate.  He figures they’re going to have to talk about this, and he’d rather make his position on it all pretty clear beforehand.

Mac looks at him, for a long moment.  “Yeah.  I...I always sleep well, here.”

“Good.”  Jack smiles at him.  “I like havin’ you here.”

Mac flushes.  “Oh yeah?”

“Mhmm.”  Jack kisses his cheek again.  “Means I can do that a whole lot easier.”  He likes kissing Mac good morning, and while he’s not quite sappy enough to say that, he’s certainly sappy enough to feel it.

“...So, um.  Are we going to talk about this?” Mac swallows, putting his bowl on the nightstand.  “I feel like we should.”

“Yeah.”  Jack nods.  “We should.”  He takes a deep breath.  “I’m in love with you, Mac.”

Mac exhales, blinking at him.  “For real?”

“Yeah.  For a long while now.”  He reaches for Mac’s hand.  “And it’s all right if you don’t feel that way about me, that’s fine, but —“

Mac kisses him, hard, cutting off the end of the sentence.  When he pulls back, his eyes are a little wild.  “Don’t even think about convincing yourself I don’t love you,” he says, like he knows that’s exactly what Jack was about to go and do.

“So you do?” Jack grins, just a little bit.

“Yeah.”  Mac kisses him again.  “Yeah, I do.”

Jack leans his forehead against Mac’s when the kiss is done.  “Good.  That’s all I needed to know.”

Mac’s little laugh in response is the best sound Jack’s ever heard.


End file.
